Psych Ward's Upstairs
by Mint Pizza Queen
Summary: A series of short stories focused around House and company. Pairings vary, but mostly focuses on House and Wilson. Part of the 1000 Themes Challenge.
1. 4 : A Place to Feel Safe

**A/N:** This is part of the 1000 themes challenge, created by me. The challenge is divided up into twelve parts--and this is part one consisting of 100 of the thousand themes, and is focused around the House, M.D. fandom. Enjoy and feel free to participate.

* * *

_**Theme: #4 - "A Place to Feel Safe"**_  
**Warnings:** None really. 

Fingers flew across keys, sparking gentle notes and rough notes alike. Smooth melodious sounds filled the apartment.

It was late, and it was pouring outside. House was tucked nice and snug in his little home playing his piano with a glass of scotch beside him as his partner. There was nothing on television, and going to bed was a battle not yet to be started.

There was a flash, then a few moments later a gentle rumble echoed in the night.

House slowed his fingers until the music stopped on a chord, and he reached for his scotch.

Damn weather.

It always ruined his music mood. It was always too sunny, or it was always too cloudy, or always too hot, or always too cold, and never just right.

He pulled the cover over the keys and grabbed his cane as he propped himself to his feet. If playing was going to be like this for the rest of the night, he might as well do something that he could enjoy.

Like watching a DVD.

He started hobbling to his couch when there was a loud knock on his door. He paused, cocking an ear as if he misheard it the first time.

The knock resounded, and a voice broke out.

"House, I know you're awake, your lights are on."

Ah, Wilson.

Swiftly as he could, he turned back for the door and flicked the lock before he twisted the handle and revealed a soaked to the bone Wilson.

The oncologist stared at him through bangs that clung to his forehead and threatened to blind him.

House cocked his head at him. "Well Jimmy, pleasant surprise. Are you trying out for the role in _Singing in the Rain_? I think recruiting ended maybe--fifty years ago."

"Can I stay with you?"

The man blinked. "Another fight with the misses?"

There was a shake of a head that caused the water caught in brown strands to drop to the floor. "No, it's just--" he pulled at the collar of his shirt and looked to the floor. "--I can't be there tonight. I don't want to go back there."

House doesn't say anything, but he raises a brow that suggests a quick explanation fast or else the rain is going to be his best friend for the rest of the night.

Wilson visibly swallows and let's out a tired sigh. "Last night--when I went home, I could smell another man's cologne. I--I didn't say anything, but--but she knows that I know and--I just don't want to face her yet. I don't want to hear what she has to say, even if it may be my fault." He pulls his fingers in a nervous fashion. "The air in the house is so stifling--just knowing that she--she--"

"Come on," House throws open the door and steps aside, allowing Wilson passage.

The oncologist rapidly blinks before he allows a small smile to tug at his lips and he allows himself to enter into the safety of House's apartment.

House gently closes the door and let's Wilson have free roam--watching him as he disappears into the bathroom to retrieve a towel.

He knows Wilson's not innocent either, he had failed to be faithful in the past, but it didn't matter. As long as was needed, House was willing to put up with Wilson's marriage failures and open his home.

After all, it was the only place where Wilson was safe from the world.


	2. 23 : All That Lives Must Die

_**Theme: #23 - "All That Lives Must Die"**_  
**Warnings:** ANGST

_Beep-eep-de-beep-bee-PING!_

House narrowed his eyes at his Gameboy and hissed. "Oh, so you like killing me with that big stick of yours, do you? Well, watch me take that stick and put it where the sun don't shine."

A fierce battle raged--thumbs pressing buttons versus pixelated monsters who mooned you when their weapons were either taken or destroyed.

House was close to declaring himself the victor when the door suddenly slammed and he hit A instead of B and his pixelated hero was instantly slammed into a pool of molten lava. The end tune played while the antagonist danced across the screen--again, mooning while waving their giant sticks.

"It's not fair."

The irritated man raised his head but didn't look at the person speaking. Instead, he stared off into the distance and decided to humor his guest. "Let me guess-it's not fair that the hero gets their butt kicked by pathetic bad guys with giant sticks. I totally agree with you on that one--I was so close, but then--it seems fate was against me, and a sudden idiot came in and ruined my game." He looked pointed at Wilson. "It's totally not fair. But hey--look at that, there's a 'try again' button. I think I'll go with 'yes, I'll try to kick his ass again'."

Wilson glared heatedly at House. "Games have a 'try again' button, people don't."

House wrinkled his nose. "Let me guess--ten year who's got barely two months to live due to cancer that developed in her lungs spread to her brain and her heart. Am I right?"

The silence from the oncologist was all he needed before he leaned back in his chair and snorted. "I hate to say it but that's what you get with this job. A lot of unfair things, but hey! That's everywhere! So it's all good." He was about to restart his game when a hand grabbed the handheld device and tossed it into a nearby trash can.

House's eyes widened and he snarled. "Hey! Asshole, don't go doing that. Those things are hard to find now in good condition. Don't make me kick your ass."

Wilson scowled. "Would you ignore the damn game for two seconds and actually listen? She's got barely two months to live. You want to know why? It's because of the previous hospital she went to. They told her all she had was a slight cold, hence the cough. One week later she's coughing up blood, having chest pains, and having severe migraines. All because those--those--" he swept his hand and pointed out the window. "--those morons were too lazy to properly check her!"

House remained silent as the oncologist panted slightly while gritting his teeth. He waited a moment before grabbing his cane and rested his chin on the handle. "Are you finished?"

The other man stopped and averted his gaze. "Yes, I think."

"I hate to say it, but yes, it is unfair. But I'd also like to point out that not everything is clear like clockwork and forms. Just because someone has a cough doesn't always mean they have lung cancer. She's what, ten years old? What are the chances of a child that young having cancer that severe? It's not an epidemic, but it's not uncommon. People don't go around looking for cancer with every little thing, like a headache. Doesn't mean you have brain cancer."

"I know, it's just--" Wilson clawed at his hair and sneered angrily. "--they _knew_. Her records show that she had previous episodes with cancer in her chest. It went into remission, but--they _knew, _House, they knew what was wrong."

House raised his eyebrows and looked to the floor. "All that lives must die. It may not be pretty, it may not be glorious, but it happens. Sometimes some go before others. That's what we're here for. To try to find cures, and if we fail, try and try again. We can only save so many people, we're not the Justice League or anything."

Wilson smiled bitterly before sighing tiredly. "Yeah, you're right. I got to go." With that, he turned and left in a sweep of a lab coat.

House stared at the door, lost in a silence of bitter truth and completely oblivious to the rapid beeping from the GAME OVER screen on the Gameboy.


	3. 34 : And Be Sure to Say Please

_**Theme: #34 - "And Be Sure to Say Please"**_  
**Warnings:** None

"I want results!" House slammed his cane repeatedly on the tile floor with agitation. "I don't want guesses; I want reliable, realistic, reasonable results right now in my hand!" He pointed fiercely at his empty palm.

Foreman snorted. "We ran tons of tests, everything is coming up negative or inconclusive. Those tests are being retested to find out what made them exactly so."

"House, it's got all the signs for--"

The cane wielder slammed it on the table. "If anybody suggests Lupus I will beat them with my little friend here."

The occupants in the room remained silent and House smiled. "Good, it seems we have no doctors dying from Lupus today. Chase, get those blood samples to the lab and check for everything--the cold, allergens, levels of sugar, stat. Foreman, check the MRI one more time." With that, he turned to hobble out of the room.

Cameron looked offended. "Uh--what about me?"

House turned and looked to her. "Oh yes, my dear sweet little Cameron, can't forget about you, can we? I want you to go and kidnap a certain oncologist for me so he can pay for a certain diagnostic's lunch."

The woman scowled and rolled her eyes and started to leave when House waved his cane. "And be sure to say please to him! Manners always win in the end when it comes to Wilson! I want a nice lunch today, not that nasty little salad from a week ago!"


	4. 49 : Arousals

_**Theme: #49 - "Arousals"**_  
**Warnings:** Sexual encounters of the horny kind, cussing, and slash.

Wilson sighed for the umpteenth time as he crossed his arms and started to tap his foot on the floor.

House had gone into the bathroom three minutes ago, claiming oh so subtly, "I gotta piss", and hobbled into the closest bathroom. Wilson, being a man of dignity and mannerisms, refused to go into the bathroom and wait for his friend and opted for waiting outside.

Maybe House was lying. Maybe he didn't have to just 'take a piss'. Wilson wasn't bored enough to find out.

A moan escaped the bathroom and a passing nurse eyed Wilson warily before doing a one-eighty and clambered down another hallway. The oncologist rubbed a hand across his face, hoping to wipe away the redness from the encounter.

Another moan sounded and Wilson, deciding he didn't want people asking him if he needed a quick release, dashed into the bathroom.

It was upon entering where he wanted to beat himself with a certain cane. House was leaning smugly against the counter by the sinks, and upon seeing Wilson, let out another moan.

Wilson scowled and his face flushed. "You asshole."

The crippled man grinned cockily. "What brings you into this neighborhood? Someone call you?"

"Haha, very funny." The oncologist pinched the bridge of his nose and made a turn to leave. "I'm leaving."

A cane latched onto the collar of his lab coat and dragged him back, choking him once in the process and he flailed his arms. "H-house! Damnit, don't go around doing that!" He was about to continue his rant when a finger pressed onto his lips.

"Hush, Jimmy, don't want to upset the neighbors, now do we?"

"Wha--"

House latched onto his lips, and Wilson's eyes widened into comical proportions. He tried to break away, but the quick crack of the cane on his rear killed all plans of escape and instantly whipped him under House's dominance.

All was going pretty good until the bathroom door opened.

"Man I gotta--DAMNIT, GET A ROOM."

House broke the kiss, leaving Wilson flushed and panting as he scowled at Foreman and waved his cane. "We are in a room! We're in the bathroom. Get it?"

Foreman closed his eyes and waved a hand. "Just what exactly are you two doing?!"

House cocked his head. "Jimmy here was choking. I was doing the Heimlich."

"That's not the Heimlich."

"I had to clear his airways, didn't I? That's one way to do it, and I didn't hear Jimmy here complaining." He pointed a thumb at Wilson, who was busy trying to regain his senses and put his world back onto the right axis.

Foreman held up his hands in defeat and merely walked out in a rush, muttering something about 'not something I needed to see right before lunch'.

House smirked at Wilson. "Now that Cindy-Lou Who is gone, shall we continue to raid the ice box?"

Wilson blinked at him once before he was attacked again.


	5. 69 : Beautiful

_**Theme: #69 - "Beautiful"**_  
**Warnings:** Crack.

"Oh, that is beautiful."

"What is?"

Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. "This."

A long whistle, followed by more shuffling. "Geeze, I didn't know they could look so good."

"Not good, beautiful."

"What are you two looking at?"

House and Wilson looked up from their respective seats in Wilson's office and met the irritated gaze of one Cuddy. House merely waved the magazine they were looking at. "Nothing more than a magazine! We're being good, honest."

Wilson looked off to the side, not willing to put forth any comment. When she realized that they weren't going to say anything else, she let out a loud sigh and pointed fiercely at House. "I want you in the clinic in ten minutes. You owe me big hours this month, mister." With that, she swept out of the office in a flurry of papers, hair, and PMS.

House and Wilson exchanged a look for a moment, then House grabbed the cover and tossed aside the HEALTH TODAY title to reveal PLAYBOY. "All riiiight, now where were we?"

"I believe we left off at--" Wilson licked his thumb to grip the corner of the page. "--this one right here, the one with the licorice."

A whistle. "Beautiful."

"Are those even real?"


	6. 83 : Black and White

_**Theme: #83 - "Black and White"  
**_**Warnings:** Implied slash if you squint and spin on your toes.

Their relationship cannot be defined.

It's built on no love, hate, past, present, and future.

It is held with the constants-- constant arguing, constant pestering, constant concern, and constant attention.

It's their faults that bring them together--criticizing each other and every move that they make with every breath that they take.

Despite their severe criticism of the other, they are each other's support. Wilson for when House's addiction starts getting too far or his pain is far from manageable, and House for Wilson and his latest divorce or another lost cancer patient.

If someone were to ask them why they were together, they wouldn't_ (couldn't)_ answer you. There was no signs saying, "Let's be friends!" or "I'm lonely, play with me?" around at the time when they formed this fucked up relationship. It just--clicked. Like pieces in a puzzle.

Except this is one puzzle that no one can _(will)_ solve.


	7. 86 : Blind Date

_**Theme: #86 - "Blind Date"**_  
**Warnings:** None.

"Oh no she didn't."

"Oh yes she did."

Wilson ran his hand down his face while letting out a loud groan. "Oh god, I ask Cuddy to _not _give me the weekend off. I specifically _requested_ that I work extra clinic hours." He gently rested his hands on the desk in front of him. "Now why would she say one thing, then change her mind the next in a duration of what," he looked at his watch, "fifteen minutes?"

House shrugged. "Change of plans? You know Cuddy, flash that cleavage and things happen. So unpredictable."

The oncologist rolled his eyes. "I have a feeling that the reason why she denied me work this weekend has nothing to do with cleavage."

"Oh I don't know--the moment I mentioned the blind date that you were set up on sure got her attention."

"You didn't--"

The diagnostician wiggled his eyebrows, a smug expression on his face as Wilson proceeded to try to sink into his chair and have it devour him whole.

"House, I asked you _not _to tell anyone about that."

"Hey, I just told her that she should give you the hours so you wouldn't be forced onto the blind date, but she was suddenly drawn in with interest at the mere idea of you being on a blind date and decided to let you have the weekend off." He tapped his cane gently on the floor. "You know, I thought I heard 'betting pool' when she ran out the door."

"Oh no she didn't."

"Oh yes she did."


	8. 101 : Broken Pieces

_**Theme: #101 - "Broken Pieces"**_  
**Warnings:** Slashish?

House hates Julie for what she had done to Wilson.

She brought him happiness for oh so long--then used him, abused him, and dropped him off in a pit of despair.

She kicked his teeth when he tried to make her happy, turned her back on him when he wanted to comfort her (or himself, House wasn't quite sure), and she even made dinner torture for his friend.

So that evening when Wilson showed up, suitcase in one hand and door handle in the other, House did not hesitate. He knew something was up, just didn't want to admit it at first that this time Wilson was the victim in this marriage. It would prove that he was weak, unsatisfying--

--that Julie had won.

He hates Julie for breaking Wilson. He hates her because now he has to pick up the pieces and try to fix him again.

You can only fix something so many times. How many times can he fix Wilson before he can't be repaired anymore?


	9. 111 : Candy

_**Theme: #111 - "Candy"  
**_**Warnings:** Sexual comments.

Wilson sighed and rubbed at his face. He wasn't paid enough for this job.

Oh, he wasn't talking about the oncology part either. He was talking about fetching House when Cuddy needed him, or being House's keeper.

That, in itself, was a job and a half.

If he were to be paid just watching House, he'd be a millionaire in a month. That damn cripple--always getting himself into trouble.

Where would he be without Wilson?

"Wilson!"

_'Well,'_Wilson thought._ 'I don't know about him, but I would be relaxing, enjoying a nice meal, and watching a good show on television--not getting attacked by a cane every time I hear my name, or getting crammed into a janitor's closet whenever House got that funny feeling.'_

Damn cripple with an ego complex to match.

"House, Cuddy wants you." House recoiled in mock terror at the mentioning of the dean.

"Ew, no. I don't want her. Oh wait--" He looked thoughtful. "Her cleavage is gorgeous, and her ass is nice--nya, I'll think about it. Tell her to give me a week."

"No, House, she wants you in her office now."

At that, House threw his cane into the air. "Why didn't you say so? Make sure she has the condoms, I got the lubricant. We can be happy-happy-happy before the day is through!"

Wilson stared at him before he shuddered. "House, just--just--" He dug into his pocket and drew out a Hershey kiss and shoved it at his friend. "--just shut up and go to her office."

The diagnostician stared at the piece of candy before eying the oncologist. "Are you trying to tell me something?" He twirled the piece of candy between his fingers mockingly.

Wilson sighed. "Yes, House. I'm giving you a Hershey kiss because I want a sweet, chocolate kiss from you."

"I knew it!" House slammed his cane on the floor, startling several nearby nurses, and even made Wilson flinch from the sudden noise. "You want to get into my pants! I knew you were gay. Those divorces weren't all from cheating."

Wilson grabbed House by the shoulders and steered him towards the elevator. "House, do us all a favor and go to Cuddy's office, and leave me alone for the rest of the day. Okay? That would make everyone very happy."

"So I'm going to assume our engagement is off?" House made a pouty face that made Wilson's hair stand on end.

"We never had an engagement!"

"You're so mean, Wilson."

"And you're so cruel to me. Now go."

House climbed into the elevator, and hit a button with the end of his cane. Just as the doors started closing, he reached out to Wilson with one hand. "Don't worry, my love! I shall return to you, fear not! Have the bed ready, and don't bother wearing clothes. They'll just end up on the floor."

The door closed, and Wilson crawled away under the piercing stares of the audience that heard every word, including Chase.

And thus, a fanboy was created.

And Wilson declared candy was off limits to House.


	10. 112 : Candy Heart

_**Theme: #112 - "Candy Heart"**_  
**Warnings:** Slash implications.  
**Notes:** BadCupid Dot Com. That will say it all.

"Be my beeeotch."

Wilson's head flew up in alarm, staring incredulously at House who sat in front of him with a bag of candy. "Excuse me?"

House held up a little candy heart and stared at it boredly. "I got them off a website selling these Valentine hearts with rejected sayings. I wonder how the kiddies will take it when they read these and find instead of the fluffy little sayings that are typically there, they find things like--" he took out another candy after eating the first one and read it with a raised eyebrow,"--_'be my intern'_." He cocked his head and stared at Wilson.

The oncologist stared back before he resumed working on his paperwork. "I have nothing to do with this."

House ignored him, clearly more amused and drawn into finding some of the dirtier candies. He let out a gasp, a sign of realization or success, and pulled out a minty green colored candy. "_'Get the leash'_."

Wilson choked on air as House popped the candy into his mouth and dove back into the goods. He was still spluttering when his friend drew out another piece.

"'_STD free'_."

"Well, there's some good news." Realizing he wouldn't get anything done as long as House was around with his bag of naughtiness, he stuck the papers into a folder and stuffed them into the top drawer of his desk.

"Secretly though, it's all a lie. They have Gonorrhea." Pop goes the candy and out comes another from the bag of goodies.

"'_You are why I'm gay'_." House and Wilson both cocked eyebrows and stared at each other.

The oncologist was the first to break the silence. "Well, House, I never knew." He lent forward to grab a candy but a hand grabbed his, stopping him.

House stared at him with piercing blue eyes. "There's a lot about me you don't know." With that, he pushed himself to his feet, propping himself up with his cane. He turned to leave, but stopped long enough to drop a candy into Wilson's hand.

He hobbled out, leaving Wilson behind staring at a candy heart that he had left behind.

'_Cell mates forever.'_


	11. 115 : Can't Let You Go

_**Theme: #115 - "Can't Let You Go"**_  
**Warnings:** Slashy jealous love.

Sometimes he doesn't like the girls Wilson goes with.

No, that was a lie. A big fat from a big fat liar.

He _hates _**all **the girls that Wilson goes with, even Cuddy and Cameron when it's a business deal.

He especially hates that other lady--Julie what's her face--popping in with a box of food that will be Wilson's warm lunch from the heart of a new wife to be. Wilson smiles, happy to accept such a token of love.

It makes House gag, and hungry knowing that Wilson won't buy him food and will refuse to share, and will go as far as to lock all the doors around him so he can eat in peace.

He hates Julie for stealing Wilson on their 'weekend hangouts'. Every Friday would be the same--"Sorry House, Julie and I are blah blah blah," he never really knew because the moment that her name popped up he tuned him out, hobbling away angrily.

He always wishes for that woman to get hit by a bus. His wish almost came true--granted it wasn't a bus and he almost did it himself with his motorcycle.

Not that anyone would notice the bloody carcass of the woman in the hospital parking lot with what looked like repetitive skid marks from a two-wheeled vehicle.

Any guesses anyone?

House scowls and turns the channel on his television as he fumes in a silent rage at the fact that yet again, he's home alone on his weekend off without his buddy to torment. He could call (and get the answering machine), he could pop up unexpectedly (and arrive at an empty home), or he could wait until Monday (and receive a glazed look of sick puppy love from Wilson).

He hated that woman for taking away what belonged to him.


	12. 121 : Center of the Sun

_**Theme: #121 - "Center of the Sun"  
**_**Warnings:** ROFLness.

"How many times am I going to have to tell you this House, you do not run this hospital?"

House made a show of appearing surprised by this news. "Really? I did not know that. It wasn't anywhere in the last thousand memos that I received. Maybe I missed that one--"

Cuddy glared at him and threw a folder in his direction. "You can't keep going and doing anything you damn well please. It's not fair to the other patients and it's not fair for the other doctors who are actually trying to do their jobs."

"It's not that he's _not _doing his job--it's just he's doing it a little too well..." Wilson trailed off when he realized that Cuddy was glaring at him with that look that said 'Don't encourage him!'. He silenced himself and looked away.

She wasn't through with him yet though. "You are in big enough trouble as it is, Mister Wilson. You're just as guilty for letting him get away with half of the stuff he does."

"B-but it's not like I'm his keeper or anything! He doesn't listen to me!"

"You are totally wrong," House grabbed onto Wilson's sleeve and tugged at it. "I listen to every word you say. I absorb it like a sponge. I latch onto every word. You are my guidance, my conscience, my soul." He lent in and growled. "If I'm going down, you're going with me."

Wilson stared incredulously while Cuddy rubbed her temple. "Wilson, somehow and someway, do whatever you need, knock House off his God pedestal and let him know that he is not actually God and does not run this hospital."

"Of course I'm not God, you fool, you're breasts are! What they say goes, and right now they're saying 'look at me', so I obey." House squinted and stared intently at the woman's chest, who merely held up another folder to block his view. She received a growl from House, and watched as he elbowed a flustered Wilson.

"Wilson, nab anything that's near her. She can't block me from God forever."


	13. 123 : Check

_**Theme: #123 - "Check"**_  
**Warnings:** SLASH.

"Are any of you doing anything important at the moment?"

Three heads popped up to see Cuddy standing in the doorway, looking irritated and worried at the same time.

Cameron, Chase, and Foreman all shook their heads. Cameron spoke. "House didn't show up, and clinic was already taken care of. What's wrong?"

"Well that's just it--House didn't show up." Cuddy entered and the worry increased on her face. "And neither did Wilson."

"Maybe they skipped town. If it's House and Wilson--" Foreman suggested only to be cut off.

"Wilson takes his work very seriously. He would never do this just to skip out for a field day or picnic." Cuddy ran a finger along her brow. "I tried them both--their cells and their home phones. Nobody's picking up. Either something happened or House kidnapped Wilson and won't let him anywhere _near_ a phone. I'm thinking of the latter." She pointed to Cameron. "You go to House's place and look for them there. The other two can stay if anything should come up."

Cameron groaned softly before she headed out to House's domain.

Getting there was the easy part. Getting in--well, that was also easy.

What to look for or what to expect was not so easy.

Surprisingly the door was unlocked, and Cameron let herself in quietly. She tiptoed in and noticed one thing off already--

--Wilson's pants were on the floor, along with his tie, socks, and work shoes.

She blinked and made her way further in, peering into the kitchen quickly and ruling that as a safe place. She tiptoed then towards the bathroom only to freeze in front of the bedroom door.

There was snoring.

From multiple persons.

With a mere finger, she pushed the door open slowly and nearly cried out when she saw the scene on the bed.

House...and Wilson...were asleep in each other's arms.

(Un)fortunately, there was a blanket over the two of them. Cameron stared, speechless for once as she whipped out her cellphone. Dialing Cuddy's number quickly, she made her way back out of the house as the other woman picked up.

"Cuddy speaking."

"I found them," Cameron started as she closed her car door and started the engine.

"Where are they?"

Cameron inhaled. "Well--at House's. Why don't you give them the day off? They looked exhausted. And besides--today's not a busy day. No real emergencies. If something comes up, we could call them in."

"Well--I suppose. But I'll tan their hides tomorrow. What were they doing? Drinking beer and eating pizza I assume?"

The girl looked back to the apartment and a grin made its way onto her face. "Not even close. Let's just say tomorrow's going to be full of interesting things to talk about."

"Oh? Like what?"

Cameron buckled her seatbelt. "You'll see."


	14. 137 : Closed Doors

_**Theme: #137 - "Closed Doors"**_  
**Warnings:** CAMERON KNOWS. HOSHIT. LOLZ, SLASH.  
**Notes:** Continues from previous story.

"Dr. Wilson, can I talk to you for a moment?"

A sweet smile with eyes dancing was what he met when he turned to the voice that called him from the doorway.

"Ah, sure thing, Cameron, come on in."

Cameron entered and closed the door, approaching with precise steps and ease. "It's about House."

Wilson groaned. "What did he do this time?"

"Actually," She smirked. "It's more like not what, but who?"

The oncologist froze, finally noticing the smirk, the devil's gaze, and the aura of pure evil around the woman. "He laid someone? When did this happen?"

"Yesterday. I'm guessing around lunchtime. Very busy, although I must say a good time to do it. Well energized and all right after a big meal. All pumped up and ready to go."

Wilson held up his hands. "Look, whatever House does in his sex life has nothing to do with me. I actually don't want to know what he does."

The girl kept smirking at him. "Actually, it has everything to do with you."

His eyes widened.

_HOSHIT SHE KNOWS. _

_SHE FUCKING __**KNOWS.**_

"So, Wilson, tell me, is he as great as he boasts?" Her eyes glinted and his face burned.

He coughed. "It was supposed to be a secret. Who told you?"

"No one, I saw."

He sputtered. "How did you see?! We were in the bedroom at House's an--"

"Cuddy sent me over. I went in because no one answered and saw you guys cuddling. It was sweet, really it was." She had a faraway look to her expression now. "I knew he was a softy inside. He couldn't keep his temper all the time."

"Wait, you broke into his house?" He blinked rapidly. "I don't believe this."

"Hey, if it's of any reassurance, I didn't tell anyone and didn't say anything to House." She cocked an eyebrow. "If you still want it to be a secret, I think I can keep it under wraps if need be."

The oncologist looked like he was ready to beat himself up. "I knew it was a mistake."

"No!" She grabbed his hand. "No, if it made you both happy, then it wasn't a mistake. Don't ever say that, ever." She leveled a scowl at him. "I'm not worried about you getting hurt."

'_I'm not worried about you getting hurt.'_

His eyes widened and his expression softened. "It'll always be about House, won't it?"

"I'm afraid so."

"All well."

"So, was the sex great?"

"It was unbelievable."

"Rub it in why don't you."

"You asked."


	15. 140 : Clowns

_**Theme: #140 - "Clowns"**_  
**Warnings:** None.

"What the hell are you supposed to be?"

The man gave him a bored stare. "A clown."

House pointed the cane at the other people in the room. "And these freaks?"

"That's my family, they also are clowns. We're a family act, doing this for years." The man replied calmly, despite being irritated from the insult.

House nodded with satisfaction at the answers. "So, what seems to be the problem, Mr. Clown?"

"I keep getting frequent headaches, lightheadedness, and--"

"Stop inhaling the helium."

The patient stared before House spoke again. "Oh, you were listening? I was just thinking that maybe if you stopped inhaling the gases from the balloons, you wouldn't suffering these minor annoyances. In fact, no balloons period. No slapstick comedies where you smack each other on the back of the heads. No pie smashes in the face. Nadda. Nope. None."

"But--that's my career..." The man suddenly became downcast and the other members of the family looked at each other sadly.

House rolled his eyes. "There's another alternative."

"What is it, doctor?"

"Grab an aspirin. They are lovely little buggers."


	16. 141 : Code Name

_**Theme: #141 - "Code Name"**_  
**Warnings:** None.

"You know, Wilson, I've been thinking," Wilson eyed House warily as he grabbed the nearest container of Chinese food. "We should have code names."

The oncologist stared at House as if he just grew another head in the last twelve seconds.

House raised his eyebrows as he widened his eyes. "It'd be cool though. I wonder what mine would be."

"I thought you already had one," Wilson grabbed a set of chopsticks and delved into his food.

"Oh? What?"

"_'Crippled Ornery Guy With a Superego and is Often Called Class Asshole'_."

House gave him a bored look. "I said code names, not mottos or market labels." He paused. "Who called me ornery?"

"Chase."

The diagnostician smacked his lips. "Let's see what pretty English boy has to say when he learns that he's got clinic duty for eight hours each week for the rest of the month."

Wilson gaped, nearly dropping his food onto the couch. "That--that's just cruel. And he's Australian."

House picked up a piece of chicken and inspected it. "I don't look at the pretty picture on money for nothing, you know. The Queen says not_'G'day, mate'_."

Wilson sighed as House inhaled the chicken.


	17. 143 : Cold

_**Theme: #143 - "Cold"**_  
**Warnings:** None.

"Don't you ever turn up the heat in here?"

House poked a head out of his bathroom and smirked. "Sorry, I'm running a snowman shop. My customers will melt if I do that." He shook his head in mock sadness. "Real shame, too. Can't bake them cookies."

Wilson shook his head and rolled his eyes as the other man disappeared to finish his business. "Either you're on crack or you're just being an ass--"

"Oh why can't it be both?!"

"--and you're doing it just to freeze me out of here."

"Not freeze because if you froze on me you wouldn't move, therefore I'd have to lug you out myself. It's more like--I'm trying to get you to adapt to the new environment." House hobbled out of his bathroom as he zipped up his trousers, grabbing his cane as he entered the living room.

Wilson pulled his sweatshirt closer to himself. "New environment? What on earth are you talking about and do I even want to know?"

The crippled man swung his cane as he hopped into his kitchen loudly. "I'm going to start raising penguins, my dear Wilson. You can be the mommy and I can be the daddy. We can make sno-cones, igloos, snow angels--we'll be one big happy family! I'll let you knit sweaters for the kids."

The oncologist decided that if there was ever a better time to lock House away for insanity, this was the time.


	18. 190 : Devotion

_**Theme: #190 - "Devotion"**_  
**Warnings:** Slashy.

Wilson was a good man. He was honest to a point, he was hard working, and he was devoted.

However, his devotion could use some working on.

He was well devoted, really, just--he devoted himself to the wrong things.

While he thought he was doing the best for his wives, he never really could get them exactly what they wanted or needed. He wasn't there enough, he wasn't fulfilling enough, he just wasn't that _great_.

First two marriages went down the toilet because he was devoted to saving the damsel in distress and forgot about his own damsel at home waiting at an empty dinner table set for two.

His third marriage went to hell because he became devoted to another thing--his addicted psycho friend who was in distress. By distress meaning not willing to spend money on take out or to buy a cup of coffee for himself (or spending the nights alone in bed with pain shooting through his leg). By addicted psycho friend, he meant House.

Julie couldn't _(wouldn't)_ understand why he obeyed House's every command, every little whim. She couldn't _(wouldn't)_ listen to his reason, couldn't _(wouldn't)_ understand what he was trying to say.

"Friendship is more important than a marriage? Since when?"

"Since I met House long before you."

"I see. Then it's okay if I keep seeing Mike, right? After all, he's just a friend. A really good and a really close friend." She leveled her gaze and Wilson felt his throat constricting. "Not that I'm implying that you're really good friends with House like I'm really good friends with Mike, but I hope that you two don't do what we do together." She had a smirk forming on her lips, one that couldn't _(wouldn't)_ ever beat House's. "But if you do, then that changes everything. Don't worry, Jimmy, I won't tell. Not even the divorce lawyer will know about this one. It'll be too embarrassing for me."

She rubbed salt into the wound. She laughed in his face. She pointed out that he was devoted, but devoted to the wrong person, and she said it with such bitterness it hurt.

Wilson packed some clothes into his case and left the house without any regrets. If he learned anything from all this, it was that he kept devoting himself to one person that was there with him since basically time began for him and he didn't know it.

With a quick intake of air, he knocked on House's door.


	19. 197 : Disruption

_**Theme: #197 - "Disruption"**_  
**Warnings:** Slash. Oh Cuddy, you sly dog, you.

"House! Do you mind explaining--" Cuddy threw open Wilson's office door and nearly dropped the stack of folders she was carrying. "Damnit, what hell are you two doing?"

Wilson jumped up from the couch and attempted to straighten his 'I've just been shagged within an inch of my life' hair back to its prim and proper get up. "It was his idea." A finger flew accusingly down to the other occupant on the couch.

House slowly pushed himself up, hair even more in disarray than usual and his clothes wrinkled even more so. A smirk appeared on his face as he eyed Cuddy's distraught expression. "Hello, did you come to join us?"

Cuddy just about died had Wilson not cried out 'We weren't doing anything!' in the midst of the chaos.

The poor woman pressed a hand to her forehead and blinked rapidly. "Okay, just--what was going on?"

Wilson's red face and the enormous smirk on House's should've been an answer, but she wanted a verbal response, not these guess and checks damnit!

Surprisingly, House didn't respond. Wilson slowly stepped forward and adjusted his disheveled work shirt. "House--he asked if I could take a look at his leg. Said it was hurting him. So, I had him p-pull his pants down, and sit on the couch. I was looking over it when you yelled. I was getting to my feet to open the door for you when he grabbed me and dragged me onto the couch with him."

Cuddy eyed Wilson. "Why do I not believe you?"

"He pulled me onto him! I would never do anything of this sort in a hospital! Let alone in my office where just about everybody in the whole building likes to come!"

House wiggled his eyebrows. "Damn right, everybody likes to _**cum**_ here."

Wilson held his hands out as he flinched at his own mental imagery and attempted to claw out his eyes. Cuddy leveled a glare at House, who was looking a little too pleased with himself. "Well, whatever was going on, if you do it again, lock the door. Otherwise, House, I'm forcing you back into slave labor. Clinic duty. Now." She dropped the stack onto Wilson's desk and went to leave but paused. "Just a little curious--" She turned and a curl to her lip made Wilson want to dive for the other door in a quick escape. "--who exactly is the one who's--" she waved a hand before turning blunt. "--who gets it up the ass?"

House instantly pointed to Wilson, who's face flushed a brilliant red as he sputtered.

Cuddy smirked victoriously. "Foreman owes me big money. I just may be able to buy that car that I've been looking at the past six months. Thank you, Dr. House, and thank you Dr. Wilson." She closed the door.

Wilson turned and glared at House. "You're an asshole."

"Incorrect, my dear, you're the asshole, and you know it." House waved his hands. "Now lock the door like a good slut, we're not finished here."


	20. 203 : Doctor's Office

_**Theme: #203 - "Doctor's Office"**_  
**Warnings:** None.

"Wilson, you don't look so good."

"Thanks for the compliments. I'll be sure to send you flowers later for that."

"No, seriously, you look really pale." House narrowed his eyes and stared hard at his friend, who appeared to be on the brink of passing out. "Are you tired?"

"A little."

"Achy?"

"Yeah."

"Stuffy?"

"Not much."

"Congratulations, Wilson, you're sick. You've got a cold." House poked the man with his cane. "You shouldn't be here. There are other sick people here, we don't need sick doctors."

Wilson batted the offending object away with a glare. "I'm fine. It'll be gone by tomorrow. I've got too much work to do, I can't lag behind just because I have the sniffles."

The diagnostician made a face before he sighed. "Don't make me get mother. She'll be very angry if she finds out you went to school with a fever and didn't tell her. She'll have to attack you with the Nyquil and send you to bed."

The oncologist scowled. "You wouldn't dare."

A cellphone suddenly appeared out of nowhere. "I would."

Wilson huffed and rested his chin on a palm. "You're an ass."

"No, a concerned friend, that's all."

Again, he huffed. "You're only doing this so you can get out of clinic duty later. I know you. You're going to try to find an excuse to drag me to your place so you can get away from the other patients. You do realize that all you're doing is avoiding one sick and achy patient and getting another plopped right in your place, right?"

House appeared to consider that for a moment before he smirked. "Yup. Let's go, Wilson. I got some chicken soup to make and some Nyquil to pour down your throat. Cuddy will be pleased to know that even though mommy is too busy to take care of Jimmy that daddy can still handle it. It's not like one day away from the office is the end of the world, now is it?"

Wilson sighed as he was yanked out of his comfortable chair and dragged towards the elevator. "With you--I don't know what to expect."

"Good boy, you'll be feeling better in no time!"


	21. 204 : Dog

_**Theme: #204 - "Dog"**_  
**Warnings:** None.

"You stoned my dog."

"Technically, no. Stoning would involve really big rocks, and maybe a cane-shaped object connecting to the head. But that would be really bad."

Wilson rolled his eyes and stared up at the ceiling before he turned back to his friend. "Okay, you drugged my dog so he would be higher than a kite."

"Not really, cause he's not your dog. He's your ex-wife's." The diagnostician glanced up at the irritated man. "Is there anything else you would like to clear up?"

Wilson glared. "You still gave a dog drugs. Now that--is very bad."

House cocked his head. "Really? I thought it was bad only if we got caught. She didn't catch us, did she? Then I'd have to lie and that...that would be really bad."

"Stop dancing around the issue."

"I'm not dancing. I've got two left feet." House pushed himself up and hobbled towards the door. "It's embarrassing."

"House, don't go near the dog."

"But moooom, it's not like he has rabies or anything."

"You're an idiot."

"And you're mean. Oh, HECTOR! Who's a hungry puppy?" House shook his bottle of Vicodin while attempting to escape the wrath of James Wilson, who was about ready to beat his best friend with a certain cane-shaped object.


	22. 211 : Don't Speak

**_Theme: #211 - "Don't Speak"_**  
**Warnings:** None.

The knocking started at around eleven at night.

Wilson had just gone to sleep when the loud rapping sounded at his hotel door, and he knew that there was only one person that would be rude enough to wake him from a sound sleep at this time of night. Instead of answering the door, he rolled onto his side with his back to the sound and growled.

"House, you have the key, so stop knocking."

The knocking did stop. There was the sound of shuffling, followed by a sliding noise--and a click. House had used the key.

If House had anything to say, he'd say it. For now, Wilson was going to get some shut eye.

He felt himself start to doze off again when he felt the mattress beside himself suddenly sink. Alarmed, he shot up and flicked the snub on the lamp and flooded the room with light.

House had taken residence on the mattress beside him, and was currently staring at the ceiling in a thoughtful way.

Wilson blinked incredulously. "House, what are you--"

"Shut up."

It wasn't a biting tone, but Wilson snapped his mouth shut nonetheless and stared at his friend. "Why--?"

"Didn't I just say shut up?" The man still didn't look at him, and Wilson was getting annoyed.

"House, wh--"

"Just--don't speak. For a little while." He closed his eyes and relaxed into the pillows and Wilson found himself unable to break the silence anyway.

So, he did the next best thing.

He turned off the light and went to sleep, only after he heard House start to snore softly under his breath.


	23. 212 : Don't Hold Back

**_Theme: #212 - "Don't Hold Back"_**  
**Warnings:** None.

House was standing in the doorway, he was seated at the table in his hotel room with a plate of takeout and a beer can.

The television was on mute, and there was a news report flashing across the bottom of the screen as two political candidates fought one another for the public's vote. Bystanders watching in amusement as one person made a snide remark, some marking faces and throwing insults into the field as fragile topics were stabbed at with a heated up fork.

Wilson was ignoring both, merely staring into the Styrofoam container boredly.

"Wilson."

"House."

House paused, and Wilson finally looked up at him with a bored expression.

"Wilson."

"I think we already established that."

"Wilson, look," House was nervous, and had it been any other situation, it would've been amusing. Wilson would've even teased him a little, but at the moment, it was all wrong. It was unfit.

House was the last person Wilson wanted to see at the moment, and look at who the devil dropped on his doorstep.

"No, House. I don't want to talk." Talking meant that the whole thing would have to be brought up, and it hurt. He nearly lost his best friend to an overdose, and when that had pushed him to try to get House help, he almost lost not only a friend, but a meaning.

No, he _had _lost a friend. His meaning was his friend.

"Wilson, stop this." House snapped, and Wilson snapped the cover shut over his food. He wasn't hungry anymore.

"I'm not doing anything except minding my own business, which is something you could start doing right now. You know where the door is." He rose from the chair and headed for the small fridge in the corner but was stopped by House, who lacked his usual cane.

"You're angry, I know--"

Wilson made a face. "Angry? Me? No..."

The quirked eyebrow spoke volumes. "Right, then this is you pouting?"

"House, leave."

"Hit me."

That got his attention. Wilson nearly dropped the container, so to prevent any accidents, he placed it on the table. "W-what?"

House patted his own cheek. "Right here if you want."

The man shook his head. "House, no, I'm not going to--"

House pushed him. "What are you, a coward now?"

Wilson was confused. "Wha--"

House pushed him again. "A pansy?"

"House--"

The man pushed Wilson again, and this time Wilson pushed back, but not hard. Just enough to make it a warning that he was not going to put up with it.

House shoved him in an attempt to knock him off his feet, and had the table not been there, he would've landed on his ass. Wilson glared. "What has gotten into you?"

The man made a face. "What's gotten into _you?_"

"House, I--"

"Hit me." He punched at Wilson's shoulder, and it actually stung. Wilson hissed with agitation and from the sting, and without even thinking, threw a swing.

The loud sound of skin slapping skin echoed in the silence and Wilson found himself staring at House, who had fallen to the floor, cradling his cheek. "House! I--"

"Feel better?"

The oncologist pursed his lips. "Wha--"

"You didn't hold back," the man attempted a smile. "Good."

"House--"

"Help me up."

Wilson helped him to his feet with no second bidding and found himself picking up a laughing man. "What has gotten into you? Are you off your rocker or something?"

House rubbed at his cheek. "No, I'm--reassured." When Wilson didn't say anything, he continued. "I thought that I lost you there."

"You--"

House smirked, but flinched. "Damnit, Wilson, were you really that pissed at me?"

The man scowled. "You were being a jerk!"

"And--that's new, how?"

"Good point."

"So, am I still allowed to do consults with you or am I going to have to corrupt Chase's mind?"

Wilson rubbed at his chin. "I--guess you can, but promise me one thing." House watched him as he fetched a thing of ice from the freezer. "Don't O.D. again, because next time, you may not come out of it asking for punches." He handed the ice to House and noted with silent satisfaction the brush of his friend's hand against his as he took the offered item.

It was as good as a promise when it came to House.


	24. 245 : Eyes Unclouded

**_Theme: #245 - "Eyes Unclouded"_**  
**Warnings:** None.

The Vicodin was wearing off. He knew it because the pain in his leg was starting to come back.

He threw a hand over his eyes and groaned loudly, and nearly jumped out of his skin when something cold hit his arm. Raising the appendage, he eyed the glass of water that was being offered to him.

Wilson waved the glass slightly. "Drink this."

"Not thirsty." House reached over for his pills but found them missing from his nightstand. Just as he was getting ready to go on a spree, the familiar rattle reached his ears and his head snapped around to face Wilson.

Wilson was smugly shaking the pill bottle. "No Vicodin."

"Excuse me?"

"Cuddy's orders," Wilson deposited them in his jacket pocket.

House glared. "Are you sure they're Cuddy's orders or are they your orders?"

"They're really Cuddy's orders. She just liked my idea so much she decided to go along with it a second time."

House groaned. "You saw what happened last time--"

"That's why I'm not going to make you go cold turkey," Wilson assured him, nudging him with the glass. "We're going to slowly wean you off the pills. If it means one pill less a day, that's better than nothing. And then eventually, you won't even need them. Even with your leg."

House grabbed the glass with annoyance. "And what is going to be the whole of this whole thing?"

"For one, your liver will love you once again, and the second is you won't be seeing the world through a haze of drug-induced chemicals," Wilson rose from the bed and reached into his pocket. "Imagine, seeing the world through eyes unclouded. It's kind of nice, really. Don't take my word for it, see it for yourself when you finally stop taking these things."

He left the bedroom, and House stared at the glass of water in one hand, and the two Vicodin that Wilson placed on the nightstand.

Wordlessly, he popped the pills, and left the glass untouched on the stand.


	25. 250 : Fairy Tales

**_Theme: #250 - "Fairy Tales"_**  
**Warnings:** None.

This girl was annoying him.

He wanted to tell her to buzz off, but Wilson was also in the room, and he was wielding a weapon. A clipboard, actually, and he knew how to use it.

So, he tried to ignore her.

"Do you think I could get a unicorn when I'm better, Dr. Wilson?" She asked timidly as Wilson checked her over.

"I don't know, you'll have to ask your parents on that one. They may give you a unicorn in a book, but not a real life big one."

"Oh, I'd be fine with that," She smiled at him with a toothy grin. "Say, can I be a princess? Oh, no, I can't. I'll lose my hair when they kill the cancer, right? I can't then. Princesses don't have hair."

Wilson made a face. "You can still be a princess," House bit his tongue. "In fact, you can do something that no princess can do."

"Oh! What's that?" House quirked in an ear and started to sip on his coffee.

He smiled. "You can change what type of hair you have. No princess can do that. You will have that power, and that's what makes you a special princess."

House nearly choked on his coffee. Okay, nearly was a bad word for it. He accidentally inhaled some in an intake of air that was a start of a laugh and he went into a coughing spree. The girl watched him worriedly while Wilson stared at House with a 'Is that really necessary?' expression.

The girl went back to Wilson. "And a prince, can I also have a prince?"

"Maybe when you're older," House broke in and Wilson rolled his eyes. "Princesses don't get boyfriends until they reach puberty."

"Oh," the girl looked thoughtful. "What's puberty?"

House snapped his magazine shut and started hobbling for the door. "That's it, Wilson, you can cover alone from here on. I'm outta here."

"Thanks, House. So much."

"No problem, Prince Charming."


	26. 258 : Fault

**_Theme: #258 - "Fault"_**  
**Warnings:** Spoilers for the season 4 finale, House's Head and Wilson's Heart.

He wanted to be angry at him. He wanted to hate him, loathe him, despise him, and every word in the dictionary that meant hate.

Yet, he couldn't.

It wasn't in his heart to do it. He was hurting too much, and he just didn't have the energy to hate his best friend, his best friend that got her in this mess in the first place and his best friend that just put his life on the line to find a diagnosis.

He just wanted it to be over and done with. He wanted whatever God there was up there to stop tormenting him, laughing at him, giving him something beautiful only to rip it away so quickly.

It was his fault. Her fault. Their fault. His own fault.

Who's to blame in this name game?

Her last breath was in his arms, and she had clung to him desperately, lovingly, before the life vanished in her eyes. He felt his chest clench up, his voice caught, his heart being squeezed fiercely, and he was crying again.

His friend was in a coma, and the head of medicine was in the room with him. She too was clinging to him, begging him through silent whispers for him 'to just open his damn eyes'. When they finally did, hours later, he was watching them through the door.

They made eye contact, and they both knew that the fault would never be decided.


	27. 262 : Feel the Love

**_Theme: #262 - "Feel the Love"_**  
**Warnings:** None.

"HOOOOUSE!"

The man ducked into Wilson's office and headed for the balcony. "If she comes looking for me, I'm not in here."

Wilson made a startled face and quirked his head as the man practically threw the door open and ran. "What--House, what's going on?"

The man turned for a second and was about to speak when Cuddy suddenly appeared in the doorway in _House's office _that led to the balcony_. _She bristled. "HOUSE!"

He started for the other door, rushing past Wilson, who watched the whole thing in amusement. "House, what's going on?"

He looked to Wilson and allowed the fatal words slip off his tongue as he yanked the door open.

_"Clinic duty."_


	28. 269 : First Encounters

**_Theme: #269 - "First Encounters"_**  
**Warnings:** AUish?

They first met after their first interviews to work at the hospital. They had both been told to come back for the orientation on Friday, as well as a guided tour of the whole hospital. The brown-eyed man was excited. The blue-eyed man was bored already. They locked eyes on their way out, and the brown-eyed man held the door open for blue-eyes. Blue-eyes smirked at him and brushed past him to grab the other door.

A few minutes before orientation, they met again in the hallway, just outside the meeting room. They introduced themselves.

"James Wilson."

"House."

"No first name?"

"G. House."

"Well, nice to meet you G."

"Please, just call me House."

"Certainly. Just call me Wilson."

"Certainly, Jimmy-boy."

"I see we're going to get along _very well._"

"Certainly, Jimmy-boy."

The dean of medicine opened the door and allowed them, along with several other doctors into the room and they all found their respective seats. Ironic that Diagnostics was stuck next to Oncology.

"Welcome all to Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. I'm Dr. Lisa Cuddy, and I'd like to give you all a proper introduction of what we have here..."

The lady drowned on, and Wilson listened intently. House merely doodled on his packet.

"...as new doctors, we like to..."

Wilson happened to glance over to his new companion and saw the obscene sketch. His eyes widened and he held his breath, attempting to keep his composure. House saw his reaction, and added some details that emitted a soft snort from Wilson.

Fortunately, Lisa Cuddy didn't notice. Nor did anyone else, except for Pediatrics who was smirking under her sleeve.

"And finally, if any of you have any questions, feel free to ask."

House's hand instantly flew up and she nodded in his direction. "Yes, Dr. House."

He nodded at her and held up the drawing that he made of her. "What do you think, is she more of a D-cup or DD? I'm partial to a double d any day..."

Wilson lost it, and Pediatrics hid in her orientation packet as she tried to stop her giggling fit.

Cuddy's lips pursed. "I've heard stories of your genius and antics, Dr. House, and let me assure you, I will not tolerate that here."

House smiled. "Really?"

She smiled back. "Really. See, we have this thing called 'clinic duty', which I'll make you well acquainted with before the day is over."

"Really, Cuddy, little sneezing kids don't scare me."

Her smirk widened. "We'll see, Dr. House, we'll see. You can bring your little friend with you, if you'd like."

Wilson blinked and House shrugged. "Okay."

And thus started Dr. House's and Dr. Wilson's careers at Preston-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.


	29. 278 : Food

**_Theme: #278 - "Food"_**  
**Warnings:** None.

"There is no camera."

"Sure there is, how else would you know what I'm eating?"

"There's lights."

"House," Wilson pulled away his tray from the prying hands. "Get your own damn food!"

House made a pathetic face. "Aw, but yours is better!"

"It's from the cafeteria!"

"Still, you bought it. It's what makes it so great." He snagged half of a sandwich and kicked his chair back out of Wilson's reach and took a bite of it. "Mmm, delicious."

Wilson groaned loudly and slapped a hand on the desk. "That's it, I'm eating out."

"I'll come with you."

"No, you won't."

"You can't stop me."

"Fine, I'll starve myself." Wilson popped a fry into a mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "Oh, better yet, I'll eat with Cuddy during your clinic hours."

"Now that's just cruel man." House gave him a serious face that spoke volumes. "Are you trying to starve _me _now?"

"House, you have a wallet with lots of money, you won't starve."

"Sure, I will."

"No, you wo--GIVE ME MY FOOD! HOUSE!"


	30. 288 : Fragments

**_Theme: #288 - "Fragments"_**  
**Warnings:** None really.

He didn't recognize him. He was laying silently on the hospital bed, white as a sheet, and staring at the ceiling.

Wilson pulled the chair up and ran a hand through his hair. If only he hadn't been at that damned conference, he could've been there to stand up to Stacy, to give House exactly what he wanted.

But now it was too late. House's leg was practically useless. Stacy had done her deed and left him to fend for himself.

"She's gone," he heard House murmur with a scratchy voice.

Wilson bit his lip and bowed his head. "I know."

House made a pathetic sound and Wilson found his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Everything's gone."

"No, I'm still here."

House's gaze traveled down to his face and gave him an inquiring expression. "Really?"

Wilson nodded and gave him a smile.

House closed his eyes and took in a staggering breath, and started to cry in silence.

And Wilson started to pick up the pieces that made up House.


	31. 314 : Graffiti

**_Theme: #314 - "Graffiti"_**  
**Warnings:** None really.

He didn't know why he bothered to listen to the man half of the time. He was a crack addict and a whack job, and please--

--since when had he become Wilson's babysitter?

"Go find him, he says," Foreman grumbles as he stuffs his hands into his pockets and marches along the street, head twisting back and forth as he scanned the graffiti covered alleys. "'Check out this neighborhood, he likes hiding there.'"

Why the hell would Dr. Wilson, a respectable man, hang out in a neighborhood as trashed as this?

Foreman didn't even like the man. He respected him, but didn't like him. Anyone who willingly became friends with House was probably evil too, so he tended to avoid seeing Wilson as much as possible.

Didn't mean that he could avoid him forever.

Ready to call it quits, Foreman rounded a corner on a street and stopped when he saw him. Wilson was seated on a set of stairs, Styrofoam cup of coffee in his hands, gazing at the sky.

Aggravated, Foreman marched towards him. "Hey."

Wilson jumped, apparently not noticing that someone had approached him. "Oh, hey."

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he took a sip of his coffee and made a face. "Damnit, I didn't even notice it go cold."

Go cold? Just how long has he been here?

"House asked me to come find you. Why, I don't know. The man's weird." Foreman shrugs and is slightly confused by the smile that suddenly appears on Wilson's face. "What? He is."

"Yeah, he's weird, but the fact he asked _you _to look for me--that's funny." Wilson places the coffee onto the steps and sighs. "Well, you found me, now you can go."

"Part of the deal was I am supposed to drag you back to his place."

"Tell him that I resisted."

Foreman rolled his eyes. "He'd make a black joke on why I didn't pick you up and throw you in my car. Then he'd harass me to find you and do this all over again."

Wilson looks up and smiles faintly before looking away. Foreman's curiosity gets the better of him and he seats himself beside the man.

"All right, so I told you why I'm here. How about you?"

"Looking for a new girlfriend."

Foreman doesn't even react. "I'm not House. You can be honest. I won't snap at you."

Wilson remains silent before letting out a breath that he appeared to have been holding. "I'm looking for somebody."

"Anybody I know?"

"No," he hesitates. "I--I don't even know if I should keep trying anymore."

"Why?"

He hesitates again and rubs the back of his neck nervously. "It's been years since I've seen him. I don't know if he's alive."

Foreman remains silent before Wilson rises from the steps. "It doesn't matter. House knows the story, so if you really want to know, just ask him. I'll go now. I'll let him know you found me and made me go." He turns and smiles at Foreman. "Good night."

The man murmurs a good night back to him and watches as the doctor disappears around the street corner. He rises from the steps as well, peers down to see the cup of coffee Wilson left behind.

It's cold and completely full.


	32. 319 : Greed

**_Theme: #319 - "Greed"_**  
**Warnings:** None really.

It's unfair.

She's a better doctor than the whole lot put together, she knows it.

Amber fumes as she marches out of the classroom, approaches the elevator, and viciously presses the down button.

She doesn't have to put up with this. She should be respected, feared, and even idolized.

She snarls at the door as the numbers slowly descend and stop at another floor, and she groans loudly in exasperation.

Stupid House.

She wants revenge.

But how?

She could always switch his pills, mess with his head, slip something into his food--

She's listing off all the different possibilities when the elevator rings and the doors open, a small group of people leaving except one man.

She enters and presses for the first floor, ignoring his curious gaze. She taps her foot impatiently before she recognizes the man.

She whirls around and points a finger at him. "You're the guy from the other office!"

He blinks at her. "There are a lot of offices here."

"Don't you remember? 'I was never here.'" She makes air quotes and sees the look in his eyes that says he does recognize her.

"Oh, you." He frowns. "Aren't you one of the competitors in House's game?"

She nods. "Yes."

"Ah."

There's a silence for only a second. "What's your name? And I don't mean your number or anything. I mean--your _name._"

"Amber," she looks up at him inquiringly. "And that's all there is to know."

He smiles. "Hello, Amber. I'm James Wilson."

Wilson.

Wilson?

WILSON!

"You're House's friend," she feels giddy and knows she's found her trump card.

His smile falters. "Oh, I guess I'm no longer head of the Oncology department. Just--'House's friend'", he air quotes mockingly and she finds him somewhat--

--amusing.

"Volakis," he blinks at her rapidly before she repeats herself. "Amber Volakis, that's my name." She smiles at him and he returns the smile again.

"And that's all there is to know, I assume?"

"I don't know, why don't we talk over lunch?"


	33. 320 : Green

**_Theme: #320 - "Green"_**  
**Warnings:** None really.

"That's a new tie."

Wilson looks up from the file he's studying and gives House a look of irritation. "Yes, what about it?"

"It's a new _green _tie," House seats himself opposite of his friend and steals a fry from his plate, receiving a groan of annoyance.

"Yes, it's a new _green _tie, what's wrong with a new _green _tie?"

"You never get new ties for yourself. You always receive them," the man narrows his eyes and suddenly starts jabbing at the air with a new fry. "So, who's the lady?"

Wilson flips the folder shut and steals back his plate. "There is no lady."

"The new tie says there is."

The oncologist makes an exasperated noise and House steals a handful of fries and half of the burger. "So, do I know her?"

"There is no woman!"

"All right, fine, I don't know her." House gulps down the fries and prepares to take a bite of the burger but it's quickly snatched away by swift hands.  "But apparently it can't be anyone related to Julie. She hates green, and if I'm right, everyone is an ass in her family and hates green."

Wilson throws the burger onto his plate and shoves it at House. "Fine, there is someone--"

"Ha! I knew it!"

"--it's a man though."

House's jaw falls and the burger falls apart, bun rolling dangerously close to the edge of the plate. "Man?"

Wilson smirks at him. "Yup. I'm trying to impress a man. Jealous?" He rises from the table and leaves, folder tucked carefully under his arm, House staring at his back as the man disappears.


	34. 327 : Hardcore

**_Theme: #327 - "Hardcore"_**  
**Warnings:** None really.

"You're weak."

Wilson resists the temptation to groan, and instead, he ops to keep walking away from him.

"You're a coward," the voice is mocking and he tries to pick up his pace. _Not now, not now, not now..._

"All you ever do is run away. Why can't you just face it down like a big boy? Or are you still a little kid?" Wilson stops to glare at the man and snaps at him.

"Go to hell, House."

"Ooh, that may have hurt. I can't really tell," he hobbles close and shoves his face into Wilson's with a sneer. "You are pathetic. Grow a backbone, Jimmy. Maybe people will start to respect you and stop using you."

He narrows his eyes. "Right, as if you would respect me and stop trying to use me to get your damn pills."

"Maybe."

"You wouldn't, now go to hell." With that, he turns and stomps away, ignoring the mocking _'Coward, coward, coward...'_ that echoes in his mind.


	35. 334 : Heart Attack!

**_Theme: #334 - "Heart Attack!"_**  
**Warnings:** None really.

He's panting, trying to catch, and there's a thin sheet of sweat on his brow. He keeps squeezing his hands into fists, and there's a grimace to his expression.

At first all I can think is--he's in pain. His leg? I thought he'd already taken his Vicodin.

Then he's pressing fingers to his neck and my mouth goes dry.

I jump up and am at his side almost instantaneously. "House? Does your chest hurt?"

He keeps trying to catch air, but finally nods. He grimaces again, then slumps from his chair and I catch him before he falls to the floor.

He's having a heart attack. _Oh god. _

"I need help in here! Man having a heart attack!"

It's like nobody is listening. No one comes running for a moment, and I can only think of the damage that this will have on his body.

"Heart attack! Somebody get in here!"

Finally, Foreman's around the corner and sees us. He bolts into the office and is at our side in an instant. "You grab that arm."

His own heart is racing when they struggle to pick him up and carry him out. Halfway down the hall, someone finally brings out a bed, and they rush him the rest of the way. Wilson's pulled back by Cuddy, and he watches helplessly as the team and several nurses go to House's rescue.

_Please don't die._


	36. 336 : Heartache

_**Theme: #336 - "Heartache"**_  
**Warnings:** None.

He finds him in the darkest corner of the bar with five empty bottles of beer scattered all over the table. He can barely hold his head up, let alone his eyelids. He stalks over and plops himself in the empty space across from him and earns himself a glare and he returns it with a smile.

"You're an idiot."

Wilson sluggishly makes a raspberry noise from his mouth and attempts to drink from an empty bottle only to realize that it's empty, and lets it fall onto the bench beside him. "Na ah."

"Yes, you are, and since I'm the only sober one here at this table, what I say goes." Wilson gives him a look of doubt and House smirks. "Now, since I'm sober, it also gives me the right to lecture you mercilessly like you do to me when I'm high."

Wilson rolls his eyes and stops abruptly when he starts rolling with them. He catches the table and pulls himself back up and blinks rapidly to gain his bearings.

"You're totally snockered," House mocks him in a condescending tone.

"Congratulations, even I had already established that."

"But why?" House quirks an eyebrow at him like he's trying to solve a jigsaw puzzle.

Wilson glares at him but refuses to answer.

"Is it--because of Am--"

"Shut up," Wilson fidgets in the seat and House knows he's hit the mark.

"Amber, dear sweet Amber," Wilson attempts to kick him under the table but hits the stand holding the table up and winces as he retracts his leg. "May her soul rest in peace."

"You're an asshole," Wilson makes to pull himself up and House grabs his arm and throws him back onto the bench.

The two men glare at each other for a moment longer before House leans in and growls at him. "'You got hurt. Get over it.' Isn't that what you told me?" Wilson shifts again to straighten himself up. "Isn't it? Or are you just a hypocrite?"

"Hypocrite?" Wilson laughs. "I'm only a hypocrite if she was still alive. See, this is where we're different House. Stacy left you willingly, and she's alive. Amber and I," Wilson eyes start to water and House knows he's going to lose it. "We were still together. She left unwillingly. She's dead. There's no getting together again. There's no second chances. It's done. I'm allowed to not 'get over it'. You on the other hand," The tears start to spill and Wilson's voice is breaking. "You have no right to even tell me to get over it."

Wilson rises from the table and this time House doesn't stop him. He watches as his friend turns and stumbles out of the bar wordlessly.

He stares at the empty bottles on the table and sighs. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of cash, leaves it on the table, and rises to his feet, heading out after the other man.


	37. 341 : Hell is For Heroes

_**Theme: #341 - "Hell is For Heroes"**_  
**Warnings:** None really.

There was a phone call. From there, all he can remember is Cuddy's distraught voice on the other end struggling to get the words out through haggard gasps. He remembers her voice so well, and he remembers the damned words all too carefully.

"Wilson's been hit by a car; he's in the emergency room."

That was the fastest he had ever driven to the hospital, even faster than the times he had been driven there in an ambulance. He didn't even bother to put the stand down; merely drove up to the sidewalk and had literally jumped off the bike, hobbling through the doors and people that were in front of him.

From there, everything was a blur. His team rushed up to him, explaining that Wilson was in surgery, Chase was going to make sure everything was okay, Cameron was inside working at his side, Foreman was supervising from above; don't worry; it's okay; he'll make it; Dr. House, Cuddy wants to see you.

He doesn't even remember speaking to Cuddy. He's not sure if he even said anything to her, but he knows that she spoke to him because they were still sitting beside each other hours later when Chase came out to let them know that yes, Wilson is in stable condition and no, you can't see him yet.

Orders be damned, House stomped into his room anyway and nearly turned around to leave when he saw the bloody rags that laid in a heap on the table. Those bloody rags, he realized, were what remained of Wilson's clothes.

His eyes traveled to the bed where bandages went rampant on every inch of visible skin on his friend. An oxygen mask was at Wilson's mouth, the steady rise and fall of the chest and beeping of the machines signaling the life that was inside him that existed.

His hand searched awkwardly for a chair, and he felt one being pressed into the back of his legs. It was only after he dropped onto the seat and grabbed Wilson's hand did he finally allow the emotions to take over and he allowed himself to cry, completely ignoring the hand rubbing reassuringly on his back.


	38. 345 : Hey Baby

_**Theme: #345 - "Hey Baby"**_  
**Warnings:** None really.

"Heeeey, Wilson!"

The man in question paused in mid-step, hesitantly turning his head to peer over his shoulder at the other man approaching him with a shit-eating grin on his face.

He considered his options:

First: Run.

Second: Attempt to run and have cane thrown at head.

Third: Stay and possibly be clubbed by cane.

Fourth: Stay and not be clubbed by cane.

He sighed to himself before returning a smile of his own. "Hi, House."

"Whatcha doing?"

The tone was all too innocent. It could only spell trouble for Wilson or trouble for Cuddy involving Wilson, which in the end was never any good.

"What do you want, House?"

A hand landed on his shoulder as he brought into a tight squeeze with a cane pressing into his thigh. "What, can't I ask how my bestest, awesome-est, greatest, best, best, best friend in the whole wide world is up to?"

"The fact that you used so many positive words in your sentence clearly tells me that no, you can't. What do you want, House?"

House was silent for a mere five seconds before he leant in close, lips practically touching Wilson's ear as he murmured huskily one question that cleared up everything instantly.

"Can I borrow ten grand?"


	39. 349 : High

_**Theme: #349 - "High"**_  
**Warnings:** None really.

The colors were beautiful. Swirling around in fantastic blurs and edges, the greens echoing off the blue, the reds highlighting the purples, the yellows reflecting off the oranges, all was coexisting in an artist's fantasy dream.

"House?"

The colors were making sounds. There was laughing from a pink streak as it curled around a blue flake, a orange and purple plaid was strumming like a string orchestra a gentle twine of a symphony piece that he couldn't recall, and there was a masculine voice coming from the white and brown blur that hovered before him.

"House? What's wrong with you?"

He could smell things too. The colors all smelled of various foods and odors, like the green zigzags smelled like peaches for some ungodly reason. The pink streak that was laughing at him smelled of some cheap perfume that one would typically find at a bar or stripper's joint. The white and brown blur smell familiar--almost comfortably familiar.

"Are you high?"

Oh boy, the white and brown blur that was coming at him had some greens and reds outlining it now. And the smell--the smell was coming back to him now.

He couldn't help but grin with welcoming arms. "Hi Wilson!"

The blur hesitated before him before he felt himself being lifted off the floor. He felt like there was no gravity and allowed himself to be pulled up, allowing whatever forces to take hold of him.

"Hey, a little help here would be nice! You're not light like a feather you know."

"Sorry, can't help. Too busy floating away from earth. Be back in a few hours when I need air." There was a strum of teal dancing out the door that smelled like Cuddy's flower arrangements that had been there earlier. Maybe it was beckoning him to follow.

So follow he tried, but the blur that was tugging him wouldn't let him go.

"Hey, I don't think so. You're going to ride this high in my office. We don't need any patients seeing you like this. Worst case scenario, Cuddy finds you."

"Cuddy? Who's that?" Why did that name sound familiar? Was it a type of color? Did it smell good? Did it sound like a musical piece from his CD collection?

"You have got to be kidding me. If you're that high, you're going home." He was suddenly airborne, then felt the rough carpet scrape against his face. "Goddamnit, House? Are you all right?"

He couldn't answer the question, so he smiled. The blur quivered for a moment in his vision before it manhandled him again with a growl. "Why am I not surprised?"


	40. 354 : Hold My Hand

_**Theme: #354 - "Hold My Hand"**_  
**Warnings:** None really.

Cuddy had left hours ago, having been called away to fill out the proper paperwork for something or other. He couldn't care less at the moment, having had the greatest thing to happen to him in a long while torn away from him in a mere second.

Wilson stared through the glass at the man lying in the bed staring back at him with empty eyes. He wanted to walk in an shut the blinds so he wouldn't have to see it every time he walked by, but he didn't have the heart or the will to push himself towards the door that rested a mere foot to his left.

House looked away with shame, and finally Wilson broke. He pushed himself towards the door, sliding it open with a shaking hand, slipping inside just as quietly as the air. They made eye contact and before he knew what he was doing, he had pulled up a chair and seated himself, hand outstretched and searching for another to hold.

House pulled his hands back and hid them under the blankets.

Wilson frowned and retracted his hands, resting it on his knee instead. "House--she..."

"I know."

Pursed lips and a tightness in his chest. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

_Ask me. Please ask me if I'm okay._

"Why are you here?"

"I--" Wilson felt the threads of his humanity being strummed at and tightened like an overused guitar. "--I wanted to see if you were okay. I was worried about you."

"Worry about yourself. Your girlfriend just died."

He could feel the braces that held the strings start to creak and he knew that it wouldn't take no more than a love song to break that old guitar on its final day. "You're still alive, I care about you and--"

"If you cared, you wouldn't have made me do what I did."

G was getting too tight. Too tight, too tight, they'd never make it through the first chord at this rate.

"House, I--you should understand."

"I thought you cared."

Now the B was straining. Low E and high E was already at their max, they couldn't handle the tension any longer.

"I do care."

"Go hold her hand."

D snapped, and the whole thing fell apart. The neck cracked and tumbled to the floor in pieces, the wood crumbling to dust and the strings rusting until time couldn't save it from itself.

Wilson shot up from the chair and glared hard at the man before him. "Go to hell." He shoved the chair harshly to the side, knocking over an IV stand in the process. He marched for the door, and almost slammed it open before a quiet "Wilson, wait" broke him out of his empty rage.

He peered over and saw the hand from earlier reaching out for him. "Hold my hand?"

Brown eyes narrowed as tears of rage threatened to fall. "You're okay."

He turned and stomped across the dusty remains of the ruined guitar.


End file.
